


019 - Lost Puppies

by storiesaboutvan



Category: Catfish and the Bottlemen (Band)
Genre: Cute meet, F/M, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 13:28:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17468471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesaboutvan/pseuds/storiesaboutvan
Summary: Filling the prompt “Bruh.. can you write something super cheery about van.. lol my moods in the fucking drain and I need a picker upper.”





	019 - Lost Puppies

You exited through the back door of the bakery that you worked at. It was a Sunday, which meant the place was packed with happy families and cute old people on cute old people dates. It was busy, but you loved making people smile with the pastry and the sugar and the milkshakes and the tea. Your boss had to basically kick you out the door, calling "Don't come back for an hour Y/N. Take a proper break, yeah?"

You sat on some milk crates and started to look through your messages and apps when you heard a voice. Male. Gentle. You locked your phone and walked to the end of the alleyway. It joined to another at a T-junction. You stuck your head around the corner. There was a person lying flat on the ground on their stomach with one arm under a dumpster. They were whispering under it.

You tried to not make a snap judgement. The person could be anyone doing anything. Your best friend's voice sounded in your head. 'Exactly, Y/N. Anyone. Anything! You're too trusting. Walk away.' Instead you walked closer to them. As you did you took notice of what they were wearing as surely it would help you to figure out what was happening. He was wearing black jeans, and nice black boots that were getting scuffed on the toes from the position he was lying in. He had a black denim jacket on. You stood behind him, but he didn't seem to notice you there.

You went to announce yourself when he started to speak again.

"Come on," he whispered then made some weird kissing sounds and clicked his fingers under the dumpster. Animal! He was trying to get an animal from under it? "I won't hurt you, come on."

"Do you need some help?" you asked. The guy jumped a little; you did him a frighten. He looked up from the ground. He was probably around your age, or maybe just a little older. His bright blue eyes were sparkly, and he smiled.

"There's a puppy," he informed you. You nodded. He moved out of the lying position, but stayed sitting by the bin with his legs crossed. "I saw it out on the main street. Looked lost. He came down here and I could hear him cryin'. I think he's got a collar."

You knelt down and looked. There was definitely some sort of small animal there. You looked back to the boy. His shirt and jeans were dusty, and a muddy in some parts. He obviously didn't care. You put two fingers into your mouth and whistled. It was the only thing you could think of to do. The puppy didn't move.

"I could go get some food from my work?" you suggested. The boy nodded and stood up, then the puppy trotted out and sat at your feet. "Ashford!" you exclaimed and picked the puppy up.

"You know him?" the boy asked, standing and patting the puppy behind the ears.

"Yeah, he belongs to one of our customers. I haven't seen her today though, so I don't know what this one is doing out and about. I can walk him home though. I think they live just a few streets over," you said. The boy nodded, continuing to pat the dog. You did that thing where you don't really laugh, but you breathe more heavily through your nose for a second. He looked at you.

"What?"

"You can't keep him," you told the boy. He stopped patting Ashford and ran his hand through his hair, then he looked at you. His eyes flicked across your face to each feature.

"I'm Van," he said, after clearly deciding what he wanted to say.

"Y/N. This is Ashford,"

"That's a weird name for a dog," Van said.

"Your name is Van?" you replied, amused.

"Ryan, actually, Van is a nickname,"

"How is Van a nickname for Ryan?"

"It's not. It's short for Evan. Middle name. Ryan Evan McCann."

"Van McCann? Yeah. You're right. Ashford is definitely the one with the questionable name here,"

"Why are you being so mean?" Van laughed, following you as you began to walk down the alley.

"I'm not. I'm defending Ashford."

Van gave his attention back to the dog. He made faces at Ashford like you would a baby, which was not a logical thing to do. Ashford, however, watched Van. Eventually you handed over the small black dog. Van was happy and he held Ashford in his arms, also like you would a baby, and patted his tummy. It was kind of adorable. And, by 'kind of' you mean 'very fucking adorable and I am dying on the inside please set me on fire.'

"So you work around here?" Van asked as you lead them through the streets. You told him about the bakery and how you loved it. "You smell like scones and donuts," he commented when you were done talking. You looked at him with an amused look. "It's nice," he finished, for clarification. You asked him what he did, and he told you about his band.

"Do you have any pets?" was his next question. Then, "What kind of music do you listen to?" After that, "What's your favourite food?" He cycled through all the speed dating questions he could think of, but he did so in a genuine way. When you spoke he faced you and listened. Every now and then he'd look off into the distance and make a face like he was really processing what you were saying and committing it to memory.

Ashford's street was pretty. The houses were clean and expensive, and the sidewalk was lined with green trees. Immediately you spotted Ashford's owner. She ran towards you and picked him up out of Van's arms. She said thank you a million times over, and offered a reward. You and Van both said no at the same time. "Just glad he's home safe," Van told her. She nodded and walked away. You turned to Van. He was already looking at you. "Walk you back to work?" he offered. You nodded.

The mid-afternoon sun was warm, and you walked close to Van, your arms brushing against his at times. As you walked he seemed satisfied with the information already gathered, and he made no attempt at further conversation. It was fine though. The silence was comfortable and easy.

Out the front of the bakery you said goodbye. His head dipped in a little nod, and he licked his lips. You went inside. 'Well, he's clearly not a sociopath, Y/N. Should have asked him out! So cute!' Your best friend's voice was back. You nodded to yourself, to her. You ran to the door and opened it, colliding with someone making their way in. You looked up. Van. He grinned.

"Sorry," he said.

"No, my fault. I wasn't watching where I was going,"

"Where were you going?" he asked with a knowing tone. You tried to suppress a smile, and looked away. "Well, I was coming to ask if maybe you wanted to go see the new Trainspotting movie with me this week? You said you liked the first one. We could do Mexican for dinner, because you said-"

"-that I like Mexican? Yeah. Yes. I'd love to." You nod. He handed over his phone and you typed in your number.

"Cool. I'll call," he told you, and you nodded. Van smiled, waved to your boss (who was watching the awkward human exchange with a sly smile), and walked out.

Who the fuck rolls around in mud to save a lost puppy? Van McCann, apparently. Van McCann, human puppy dog, future boyfriend.


End file.
